


I'd kiss you right now

by AmendsEreLong



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmendsEreLong/pseuds/AmendsEreLong
Summary: “And after dinner, then what?”
Relationships: Kira Nerys/Odo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	I'd kiss you right now

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate ending for that scene in season 6. I didn't find Odo's lines believable and I wanted to give them a better first kiss, so this happened.

“Shakaar and I are friends, that’s all: friends!” Kira is shouting. “The first minister asked me to update him on the war with the Dominion. Our visit was strictly business! Now are we gonna have dinner together or not?”

Odo huffs. “And after dinner, then what?” 

He sounds skeptical, even derisive. Aagh, Kira thinks, how can he be so stubborn? Is he even listening? “I don’t know, maybe we could go dancing,” she says, exasperated but determined.

He stares. His mouth opens and closes a few times. Finally he manages, “dancing?” Well, at least he seems to be listening.

“You know, dancing. Like we did last night,” she says. He goes perfectly still in horror. She plunges on. Moment of clarity and all that. “As in I felt something last night and I want to do it again.” She thinks of her arm resting along his arm, along his back, how close his face was to hers. “As in I’d kiss you right now if we weren’t in the m—”

She just has time to catch the intensity of his look before her face is in his hands and Odo’s kissing her, hard and then gentle. She doesn’t know what she expected but it wasn’t this: his lips feel exactly right, just the softness of a Bajoran’s and not the over-softness of a human’s. How did he figure out what lips feel like so he could replicate them? What does kissing feel like to a Changeling? She’s familiar with what humanoid bodies want, where they want to be touched—with Odo she has no idea, and her skin prickles with the realization. She leans up into the kiss and thinks Oh, fuck and then stops thinking for some brief eternity. His hands, slowly and deliberately, run through her hair, and he gives a low moan. She cannot imagine a better sound, gravelly and familiar and new. She reaches out to touch his chest with one hand, the nape of his neck with the other, and she wants to burrow into him. She grabs a fistful of his uniform and he gasps so sharply she drops it and backs up to look at him, alarmed. “Are you OK?”

“Y-yes, it’s just.” Odo looks down at his uniform where her hand had been. “That’s part of me.” 

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammers.

“Don’t be,” he breathes. There’s a look of wonder on his face she’s never seen before that makes her knees go weak, and he kisses her again. It will be several long minutes before either of them notices a single one of the crowd assembled across the Promenade.

~ ~ ~

“Shakaar and I are friends, that’s all: friends!” Kira is shouting. “The first minister asked me to update him on the war with the Dominion. Our visit was strictly business! Now are we gonna have dinner together or not?”

Odo would say yes to anything she truly wants, even if what she wants is to berate him for his invasive and, frankly, disgusting behavior. But this doesn’t sound like that. Surely this is an invitation of pity. If it’s pity, he can think of a number of tortures he’d rather endure. “And after dinner, then what?” 

“I don’t know, maybe we could go dancing,” she says.

That throws him. Dancing doesn’t sound like pity. Just the thought of it is exquisitely painful, he wants it so much. Is Kira joking? He sometimes misses jokes. He becomes aware that she’s looking at him intently and he has no idea how long he’s been silent. “Dancing?” he says, nonsensically.

“You know, dancing. Like we did last night.” Just like that, the embarrassment and shame that he barely managed to beat back enough to report for duty today come rushing back and it’s everything he’s most feared. But she’s continuing. “As in I felt something last night and I want to do it again.” What? His thoughts, every single one of them since last night, tangle together and crash to the ground. He’s left thoughtless, just there, suspended in a vertiginous moment, watching Kira say, “As in I’d kiss you right now if we weren’t in the m—”

And before any thoughts can cross his mind he’s cupping her face in his hands and then he’s kissing her. He can feel her skin conductance change a split-second after their lips touch and it seems to rearrange him. She wants this too. If this is what intoxication feels like, he can suddenly see why people drink. He discovers her hair, each individual hair tugging minutely at his hands, hands that are much more sensitive than his lips because he’s never understood why humanoid forms would put sensation in their lips when hands are so much more useful. He has been this happy before—shapeshifting—but he’s never let anyone else see him this happy before. It’s exhilarating with a ribbon of terror that somehow only makes it more exhilarating. Each hair is Kira’s hair and it’s Kira he’s holding and coherent thought shuts off in favor of noises he is only dimly aware of making.

He feels her hand on his chest, another on the back of his neck. He’s wholly aware of each contact point and each additional square centimeter where they are touching. He wonders how many square centimeters of bliss he can take. She grabs a fistful of his uniform and the suddenness, the closeness, being gathered by her, is so intense he gasps and almost loses his form. 

“Are you OK?” Kira asks. 

“Y-yes, it’s just.” Do it again, he thinks fervently. Never stop. “That’s part of me.” 

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he breathes, and he kisses her again.


End file.
